by J. A. Curtis
“They accepted our terms, and we will make the trade tomorrow morning, two hours before the sun rises.”
My gamble paid off. At least Nuada could no longer use Iris to force me into doing things. I wondered if Margus would approve of Dramian making the trade. If someone other than Dramian’s brother was in danger, would Dramian have made the trade? These silly power plays needed to stop. I’d tell Arius and Nuada as much when I got back.
I slept in Syrim’s old stall that night, floating in and out of consciousness. When I was awake, I stared up at the rafters and wondered what it would take for these two groups to come together.
I arose at first light and sat out by the fire that a domovoi started, watching the flames dance.
Arius’s accusation of jealousy stung. Did he think I wanted to doubt Nuada? But perhaps he had a point. Perhaps I was power hungry, and Nuada stood in my way. But so many things didn’t add up, and Kudava all but admitted Nuada had forbidden the domovye to tell me what happened fifteen years ago when so many of us fell. That was the crucial piece to the puzzle.
Dramian dropped into the lawn chair next to me after a bit, saying nothing. We both sat, lost in our own thoughts. But I had to ask him. I needed to hear his side of the story.
“When we caught Iris, he was heading away from the manor. What was he doing there?”
“I have no idea.”
“His power is hearing, right? Could he have been trying to eavesdrop or something?”
Dramian shook his head. “We’ve used Iris to listen in on the Haven before. His hearing is good enough. We don’t need to be on Haven grounds for him to hear stuff.”
“You really don’t know what he was doing?”
His shoulders drew back, and his expression hardened. “Does it look like I know?”
He glared into the fire, jaw clenching and unclenching. I watched him, but from his reaction, I didn’t think he was trying to deceive me.
“Arius said you destroyed the Otherworld,” I said.
“Big surprise.”
“Did you?”
“Not anymore than Nuada. What happened to the Otherworld was bigger than any one person, or group, could create.” He dug his shoe into the dirt. “At least that’s what Margus said.”
“Do you ever doubt what he tells you?”
“Why should I?”
We fell back into silence. Dramian readjusted his chair, cleared his throat, and glowered into the flames.
“What?” I asked.
He dug his heel deeper into the dirt before turning his sharp eyes on me. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, “What does it matter to you what happens to Iris?”
How could I explain to him? What Nuada and Arius had planned to do to Iris had just been wrong. Holding him as blackmail against me was even worse.
I touched my empty wrist. Why had I taken the bracelet off?
“I have a little brother,” I said. “He’s constantly a target for bullies. I’ve spent half my life protecting him.”
He frowned, stood, and turned to leave, but paused and turned back. “Except Iris is not your brother.”
19
Catch and Release
“Don’t let what others will think of you stop you from helping someone in need.”
WE STOOD THERE, FOUR specters in the waning moonlight, facing each other like ghosts on a battlefield. Me with Dramian, and Arius held Iris by the arm. The space separating us did little to ease the tension emanating between Arius and Dramian. They both knew better than to come alone, but the agreement for the tradeoff required any extras to remain at the tree line.
We were on the same mountain as Dead Man’s Cliff, only farther down where there was more open space and the incline leveled.
Neither spoke, as if the first to break the silence would lose the unspoken contest. I stretched my fingers, tired of the scratchy ropes on my wrists. I had ordered Dramian to bind them because Iris would be bound. I wanted this to look as close to a prisoner exchange as possible. But the whole picture didn’t play out—I willingly ran away to Dramian to get away from Arius. Still, I didn’t want him or Nuada to realize this had all been my idea.
I cleared my throat. If neither of them would get things moving, then I’d take on the responsibility. “We’ll go at the same time,” I said. “But before we begin, I want to make sure we agree to one stipulation.”
Dramian raised an eyebrow and smirked. Arius’s free hand clenched.
“Conditions for prisoner exchange have been set,” Arius said.
“Yes,” I said. “But I have a condition that you must both agree to before I agree to proceed with the exchange.”
“Prisoners do not set conditions!” Arius shouted.
“I wouldn’t call Mina a prisoner,” Dramian said. “She’s more like the one running the operation.”
Dramian appeared to be trying hard not to laugh. I wanted to elbow him in the ribs. But apparently that information was too good for Dramian not to throw in his brother’s face. Arius’s face became red, and I worried he’d call off the exchange.
“All I want,” I said, scowling at Dramian, “is both your words that after the exchange, both sides will disperse. There will be no fighting. If there is, I will run, and if I get away, neither of you will see me again.”
“Agreed,” Dramian said gleefully.
I saw Arius’s mind working, considering his options. He didn’t want to cave to my demands.
“I just want everyone to be safe,” I said.
His eyes met mine. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
He thrust Iris forward. After Iris took a step or two, I began walking. We crossed the space between. As I passed Iris, I gave a small nod.
“Iris.”
He nodded back, “Mina.”
My confidence began to fade as I approached Arius. I had never seen him so livid. He didn’t even try to hide his resentment as he watched me come near and stop right in front of him.
“Too bad Nuada wanted me back,” I said quietly.
He didn’t respond, only took my elbow in his vice-like grip and steered me toward the forest line where his faerie guardian waited. Others also waited among the trees—Palon, Docina, and a kid named Laiem. I glanced back once. Dramian and Iris had already mounted Dramian’s dragon and headed away from us. Both sides actually kept their word.
“Would someone mind untying my hands?” I said, holding out my tied hands after we reached the tree line.
But Arius pushed me toward Palon. “Take the prisoner back to the Haven.”
“Prisoner?” I sputtered.
Palon reached to grab my arm, looking grim, but I backed away.
“Not angry with me, are you, Palon?” I asked, wary he might crush me in a bout of anger. “Come on, you guys, you’re not really going to treat me as your prisoner? I could be your queen!”
“And a traitor,” Docina said.
I looked around at the faces. The lack of respect transformed into anger and distrust. Arius climbed up on his golem.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Palon grabbed me around the waist and slung me over his shoulder. I lay still, not wanting to agitate him in case he was already angry at me. He got onto his centaur’s back as if I weighed nothing, and we started making our way back toward the Haven.
“Take the prisoner to the dungeon,” Arius said when we reached the Haven. He handed the keys over to Thaya who waited outside the manor for our return. “Bring me the keys when you finish. I’m going to speak with Nuada.”
“Yes, sir,” Thaya said, a bit too chipper.
Arius stormed off into the manor. Thaya and Palon followed at a slower pace. Thaya smiled—more like sneered, up at me. “Look who has fallen from grace,” she said. “I knew it was a matter of time before Arius and Nuada realized you don’t belong here.”
“If that’s true,” I said calmly, “why did they work so hard to get me back?”
Thaya glared at me.
“Traitors d
eserve to be punished,” Palon said, and I fell silent, worried I would provoke him if I said more.
We entered the manor and walked to the dungeon room door. I had never been down there. Thaya unlocked the door. The stairway was made of stone and had a dank, musty smell. They led me to a barred cell, and Palon untied my hands and then told me to take off my sword. I handed my sword over and looked at Thaya’s smug face.
“I know why you hate me,” I said. “It’s because of what happened to Tily, your mother. You blame me for your loss.”
Thaya’s wiry frame filled like a balloon, and suddenly I was lying on the dank stone floor. My jaw ached with unexpected pain where her knuckles had plowed into my face.
“Tily’s not gone.”
The barred door slammed shut.
20
The Vision
“Answers come when you least expect it.”
CONGRATULATIONS, MINA, you saved Iris. But all I saw was the fire in Arius’s eyes as he watched the conquering hero approach. Any respect he might have had for me, gone. That budding, whatever it was between us, snuffed out by my need to interfere.
What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I ever just go along?
And let Iris get his ears cut off? I don’t think so. I had to do what I did, no matter what Arius ended up thinking about me. But one thing was for sure. Nobody would look to me as a leader. I had lost them for good. In one moment, I had sacrificed any hope of a lasting relationship with the faeries of the Haven. And Arius.
The dungeons lacked windows, so I had no way of telling what time of day it was outside. Beds were also a scarcity within my small cell—only a pile of old smelly hay. Caelm came in once and offered me a tray of semi-decent food. At least they weren’t planning on starving me. I tried to talk to him, but he ashamedly whispered that he was forbidden to speak to me and left. After eating my food, I had nothing else to do, so I sat and leaned against the grimy wall and dozed.
Large monsters loomed, two sides facing each other, their forms obscured by the darkness. The monsters rushed forward, smashing into each other. They fought and slashed, and beneath them on the ground, faeries clashed, their swords clanging in the night. Occasionally, someone fell and didn’t get up. Flashes of metal swirled around the fight. The feathers of the stymphalian birds lodged into the exposed skin of their enemies.
Despite the darkness, two forms stood out in the mayhem. A flying dragon above and a large rock shaped monster below. They worked together, slamming and snapping, firing and pounding, clearing a path through the violent chaos.
A figure disengaged from the fight and flew toward the manor.
The doors to the manor were thrust wide, and the dark warrior woman, Jazrael, entered. Her hair was tied back in a long thick braid, and her hand gripped her sword hilt so tightly her knuckles paled. She rushed forward, climbing the stairs three at a time, and ran to the queen’s room. The door stood open, and Jazrael barged inside without permission.
“Your Majesty, we have been betrayed. It is an ambush. Half of our numbers have fallen. We must leave. I must get you to safety.”
The queen stared out the window, her back to Jazrael. “It is too late for that. We have been caught off guard. This battle will not end well. All will fall, even the sons of tempest. I have seen it.”
A flicker of concern passed over the warrior woman’s face, but she stepped forward with determination. “All the more reason to get you to safety. I will defend you to the last, my queen.”
“It is too late, Jazrael,” the queen said again, impatient. “There is only one way now. You must do as I say, or we will lose all.”
Jazrael stepped forward. “What would you have me do?”
“You must make me fall.” The queen turned now to Jazrael, filled with sad resolution. “Then you must take me and hide me among the humans. At the Sacred Heart Hospital in Spokane, Washington. Switch me with one of the newborn babes there.”
“Your Majesty?” Jazrael said, shock on her face. “We need not resort to that. Come with me, I can protect you, I—”
“Someone has betrayed us. For all we know, there may be more than one traitor,” the queen said. “If they end me, it will all be over. You know that. You must believe me when I tell you that this is the only way.”
Jazrael stared grimly as the queen continued. “My visions are not always clear, but this one has been clearer than any so far. We must follow it, or I shall not survive this night. We have little time. You must listen to me. Swear to me you will do as I say.”
Jazrael’s face showed she wanted to argue, but she answered, “I swear it.”
The queen relaxed a little. “Whom do you trust?”
For a moment Jazrael looked taken aback. “You, my queen.”
The queen waved a hand dismissively. “Besides me, Jazrael. This is life and death. Whom do you trust?”
“Arius,” Jazrael said, “and Dramian.”
The queen nodded. “Arius must stay and engage the enemy. You will send a message to Dramian, telling him to return to the Haven. This is crucial, Jazrael. After placing me with the humans, you will fall. You must instruct Dramian to place you among the humans as well.”
“But you said the sons of tempest, Arius and Dramian, will fall.”
“They shall be the last to fall. And then we shall be safe. The enemy will not realize what has happened until it is too late.”
“What will happen to the faeries? They will all be helpless, at the mercy of our enemies...”
“I do not know,” the queen said quietly.
“And us, among the humans... My Queen, if no one knows where we are, will we ever find our way back?”
“I don’t know,” the queen said again. “But this must be done.”
“I could run. After I place you with the humans, I could hide and come back when it is safe...”
“No, you must not. You will fall. If we do not take steps to protect you, our enemies will corrupt you, fill your mind with many deceptions, and you would not know any better to disbelieve. They will use you to find me. They will use you to destroy me.”
She walked over to the desk and laid a hand on the smooth oaken wood. A paper and pen lay on the table. “Your message, Jazrael.”
Jazrael moved forward and sat at the desk. She stared at the paper and pen for a long moment before snatching up the pen and pressing it to the paper. Queen Morrigan read over her shoulder as she wrote.
“Tell him to take you to a hospital in Spokane Valley, Washington. A nearby city to where you will deliver me. Close, but not so close we would ever cross paths... That will do,” Queen Morrigan said at last. She took the paper and folded it before walking to the window. Unlatching it, she whistled. A bird with shiny metal wings flapped down onto the windowsill.
“Deliver this to Dramian, 2nd lieutenant,” she said. She tied the paper to the bird’s leg. The bird squawked once and flew off into the night.
The queen motioned for Jazrael to join her over by the window. Jazrael rose from her seat, her face pale and grim, and walked to the queen, stopping at her side. They slid the large front bay window open, and a cool night breeze blew in, rustling the queen’s loose hair. Queen Morrigan lifted her arm, and a large griffin flapped its way into the night, descending and landing on the grass. The large beak and head rose to gaze up at them, its feathers and fur swaying back and forth in the wind.
Jazrael released her faerie guardian. It was in the shape of a large green scaled dragon with nasty horns curling up its head and sharp spikes down its back. It circled the manor once, then landed in the grass across from Queen Morrigan’s griffin with a jolt. The dragon looked down on the griffin, its head curling back like a serpent, its jaws slack. The giant bird-lion hybrid now gazed up at the green horned dragon, not fleeing. But the dragon stood without striking. The queen cast a sideways glance at Jazrael, who glared down at the scene.
“Are you protector or not?” Queen Morrigan asked.
Jazrael’s eyes narrowed,
and her hands drew into fists. The dragon roared and then let out a stream of hot green fire down on to the griffin. Queen Morrigan collapsed onto the floor. When the dragon stopped casting its inferno, there was a dark charred spot on the ground, but there was no longer any sign of a griffin. Jazrael looked down at the queen’s still form and beat her hand against the windowpane. The ugly green dragon melted back onto her arm as she knelt next to the queen’s body.
“I shall do as you command, My Queen,” she whispered, her voice coming out strained and harsh.
She stood and rushed to the nursery.
Jazrael swept from the nursery with the baby clutched in her arms. She hurried down the main staircase and out the front door. She released her faerie guardian. This time, it took the form of a winged horse, a pegasus. The general pulled the blanket tighter around the baby and held the infant close to her chest, then climbed onto the winged horse. The pegasus flapped its wings and cantered a little ways before rising into the air.
A WOMAN WITH LONG BROWN hair tied back and wearing jeans and a T-shirt walked her small frizzy brown dog down the sidewalk past the hospital. Jazrael studied the woman until she and her dog turned a corner and disappeared from sight. She reached over to a set of stones encircling the upper arm without her faerie guardian. There were five place settings on the armlet, but one appeared to have fallen out or was missing. Each of the remaining stones was a different color. Jazrael’s hand brushed the emerald green one, and her appearance became the exact replica of the woman who had just walked by—minus the dog—and now with a baby clasped in her arms. She walked to the entrance of the hospital and in through the sliding glass doors. Jazrael looked around and saw a sign on the wall listing different wings of the hospital.
“Can I help you?” A woman in scrubs stood next to Jazrael. The woman’s name tag read Kelsey.
“Yes, Kelsey,” Jazrael said. “Where do you keep the babies?”
Kelsey blinked at her, uncomprehending. She glanced down at the baby in Jazrael’s arms. “Is your child sick?”
